Between Heaven and Hell
by Zerbinetta
Summary: Revan is leaving the known galaxy to fight a Sith threat. Thus a new hero must take her place an exiled Jedi who had followed her long ago.
1. Prologue: the Watcher

**Author**'**s notes:** As promised, here is the prologue to the new KotOR II fic. It will be turning out quite slow, however, so don't expect fast updates. I have decided what the Exile is going to look like and be like, but you have to wait a bit. This takes place months after the SF events and I give easily earned chocolate for anyone who can tell me who the ancient hag in the end is! Not the name I mention, of course.

X X X

**Prologue – the Watcher **

X X X

No sleep  
No sleep until I am done with finding the answer  
Won't stop  
Won't stop before I find a cure for this cancer  
Sometimes  
I feel I going down and so disconnected  
Somehow  
I know that I am haunted to be wanted

I've been watching  
I've been waiting  
In the shadows all my time  
I've been searching  
I've been living  
For tomorrows all my life

In the shadows

- the Rasmus, In the Shadows

X X X X

The vast sea of stars was not disturbed by any sight that didn't belong into the depths of space. The occasional asteroid was nothing out of the ordinary, and, near the doomed, war-destroyed world, the fifth planet from the sun of this solar system, not even the wrecks of ships and electrical storms were anything unusual.

Then, a small cargo freighter emerged from hyperspace close to the planet. It seemed to be of unique design and had clearly seen its share of space battles and chases. Nevertheless, it flied smoothly through the field of asteroids and ship remains, guided with expertise and, naturally, the Force.

Two crystal blue eyes watched the planet in front of them, a light frown passing through the ivory face of the pilot. It was worse than she expected, but then again, with all that had transpired here, she decided that surprise wasn't right here. After all, she knew well what destroyed the planet below.

The beeping next to her caused her to turn away from the sight. A small astromech droid appeared near the copilot seat, clearly concerned when it saw the unfriendly looking planet. The droid had also seen its share of battle. It was battered, but not dirty, for its owner took care when cleaning it and tending to it. Advanced repairs gave the small astromech additional equipment and despite the fact that five years ago, a Twi'lek merchant boasted that it was the best slicer, even she would now gawp at the technological wonder in front of her.

The pilot smiled weakly at the sight of the droid, but frowned when she returned her attention to the planet. Again, the droid beeped, obviously frightened that they were really heading to where it was dreading they were heading.

"No, I won't change my mind. I have to go there. One last time."

The freighter entered the planet's atmosphere. If the Force wasn't strong with the pilot and she wasn't doing her best to keep them in one piece and flying straight, they would have most probably crashed in one of the razor-sharp rock formations below. Fortunately, the freighter managed to maintain a semi-straight flight path and the pilot patiently searched the landscape for the whiteness – the color of innocence that didn't suit the academy at all – of the shell-like constructed building, the bridge over an abyss of venomous fumes that led to it.

Almost too soon, she found it and took the ship for a landing. The building's hangar was vast, containing only archaic-looking ships. They were clearly functional and fast, however, with no real sign of age upon them other than the design. Even the interior of the building that had lasted for millennia and withstood the destruction of the planet seemed to be almost new. For any other eyes, the sight would be deeply disturbing.

Heavy boots cast echoes through the silence of the building as the dark-clad warrior left her ship and looked around with a slight sense of déja-vu. The sight was clearly familiar… but it didn't feel like a pleasant homecoming to her. This was even worse than the great battle she had fought and won a year ago. The silence was all consuming here. It almost sent a shiver down her spine, though she wasn't easily frightened.

Beeping also sounded as the small utility droid rolled down the loading ramp, following its master. It seemed to be very nervous and frightened, but followed nonetheless, stubborn, not showing more fear than usual. After all, after so much time spent with its master, the little droid knew that no matter how bad the situation seemed, there was little to worry about while she was around. Yet now, it felt unease. Why has the master come here? And what was she going to do? The eerie atmosphere radiated darkness that even a machine could detect.

Lowering the hood of her dark cape, the pilot looked around. She was a human woman, very youthful in appearance, not pretty in the usual Twi´lek dancing girl style, but with her very own luminosity that made her beautiful in her own way. Perhaps it was because her skin seemed to be made of moonlight and her in eyes were flickers of reflected sunrays on a deep sea, or that her hair seemed to be formed of those very sunrays.

Her face wasn't as warm, however. Her flawlessly pale skin gave off a very cold impression; her features were almost like those of a statue made of snow. They seemed to be touched by a slight icy breeze that took away even some of the warmth from her eyes, memories of a summertime long gone, while winter reigned. Now, they reflected a spring morning's sky, still maintaining some of winter's chill, but nevertheless fighting back the shades of gray. Deep, endless pools of light, thought and mystique, like space itself.

The faraway world wasn't unfamiliar to her and she clearly knew the path she had to walk. Once the T3 unit wanted to follow her, however, she turned sharply and raised a palm to stop it. She walked around the hangar a bit and finally smiled for a moment. Then, she returned to the little droid, with a hint of melancholy.

"Everything is perfectly ready, T3. But from now on… I must journey alone."

"Beep-beet boop bzzt!" The droid beeped in protest. It was frightened, true, but refused to be parted from its master. It had no idea where she would journey, what she wanted to do, other than it was urgent.

Several weeks ago, the master appeared in the hangar of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, the capital of the Republic, where they had been for several months. With her came HK-47, the assassin droid, custom made for special missions that normal droids or even humans would never manage. Almost wordlessly, she motioned to the droids to follow her into the nearby cargo freighter.

Always a morning person, it wasn't surprising that the master would come to the hangar in the middle of the night, but the fact that she was alone and once she got into the cockpit, she immediately sat down in the pilot's seat – something she had never done before, since there always seemed to be a personal pilot that could fly her around – and set course for one of the Mid Rim worlds. Once there, she changed course, to deceive anyone who might be following them, she explained. And then, they headed here.

It was a long journey and there were times when even the master had to sleep, so it remained up to the droid to pilot the ship. Surprisingly, the master shut down HK-47 and began fiddling with his systems. The astromech droid had inquired several times what she was doing, but never received what could be considered a reply. Wordlessly and restlessly, the master fiddled with the systems… and, after a while, it was clear what she had been doing. She was erasing the droid´s memory, or, at least, locking it down.

The astromech was happy when it saw that it wasn't going to be memory-wiped as well, but received specific instructions. Under no circumstances was it to tail the master or tell anyone of her true identity. All information concerning her and her companions was locked away, the navicomputer was voice-locked. Without her voice, it was virtually impossible to access the records. And, the droid was quite certain, no sentient could mimic that particular voice.

HK´s shutdown and memory wipe immediately made more sense. While the assassin droid also had some instructions, it was able to mimic voices at will. The master didn't want someone more proficient with machinery or a capable mechanic to stumble across her recordings or her data. Still, she didn't want to cripple the droid permanently. After all, it was her masterpiece.

Now, however, the droid was stored away, though not forgotten, in one of the rooms aboard the cargo freighter, the Ebon Hawk. Many legends and mysteries surrounded the vessel, as they did its first – and, it would seem, last – crew that really meant something in terms of galactic events, being far more than simple smugglers, like most of the previous owners of the vessel were.

Shaking her head, the human woman sighed. "I have told you that I cannot take you with me, T3. You are a brave little thing, but even I might have problems getting where I need to go and uncovering the information I need."

The droid gave a concerned beep. If this mission was so hard, then it was double important for her to have some companions on it, stealth be damned! But it received another no as a reply. Obviously, secrecy was far more important than safety now and nothing the tiny droid would say would have any value. Well, it had its experiences with the master's stubborn psyche.

"I am a specialized Sentinel, you know, I can do this without problems. My knowledge of the Force is extensive enough to make me a very powerful adversary and I can swing a far meaner lightsaber than those amateurs you saw during our last trip. You don't have to worry about me… but I do have a last task for you."

The little droid immediately began paying even more attention, if that was even possible. It was keen to help its master – the other companions had each been delegated with a task until she would return. Surely the astromech could be just as useful as the others and live up to the usual expectations, proving once again that machines are not to be underestimated?

"I will store a holorecording in your database, and I want you to bring it to my former Master, Arren Kae." the pilot noted seriously, "Kae is a human woman, old, appears to be blind, with long gray hair… or she was, the last I saw her." The whisper reached the droid and its sensors detected regret and sadness in it. This person was important to the master.

But the human shook off these troubling feelings with ease. If it were not for the privacy of the hangar, it was doubtful she would have confessed this at all. Nevertheless, the astromech began recording her entire figure, a crystal clear image stored in its databanks. Each detail of her, from her majestic dark cape – a resemblance of a raven's wings – to the delicately bound strands of her hair, was secured and memorized.

Once more, she was handing out instructions. The droid understood some of them, but most of it was complicated Force-talk that the droid had little knowledge of. Intelligent and chirpy machine it might be, but it wasn't familiar with all the terms its master used. Then, after noticing a slight hand motion from her, it ceased recording her.

The woman bowed her head for a moment. When she raised it, she looked at the droid, with a smile clearly meant for a parting.

"It is time." she noted with a sigh, "I'm sorry, T3, but you would try to stop me… and that I cannot allow. Farewell."

A gloved hand whipped up immediately, sending a flash of mauve light at the droid. It whizzed and shrieked for a moment, then, with a slight smoke cloud from its circuits, it clearly shut itself down. The damage wasn't bad, far from it. It was simply enough to prevent it from moving or making a sound.

The woman smiled faintly and, with a whirl of her cape, headed away from the hangar. After a few minutes of wandering the halls of the building, she returned with a few possessions and headed for one of the prepared ancient vessels nearby. Nowhere near as flashy or as famous as the good old Hawk, but she would fit in better.

With one last glance at the starship that found its way into her possession out of pure need and which gained her favor thanks to the many times it had proven helpful, dark cape flowing, she entered the starship. The glow radiating from its rear end signified the starting of engines and then, with the graceful precision that her stance and movements had, it soared away from the hangar, from the building, from the planet, into the unknown.

It could have been seconds, minutes, hours of silence. The astromech droid couldn't tell. There it remained, stupefied, unable to move from the spot, a rusty little wastebasket, as its tall, auburn counterpart would no doubt comment smugly, were he still intact and had any memory of their journey together.

Oh, yes, they had gone quite a far way.

It all began on Taris, a planet of which the droid saw little, but remembered everything. It had been created there, for Force knows what means, but saved from that life due to an unlikely chain of events. It had been saved from destructions by luck… or the Force. Yes, the Force was a better term to describe it. After months of journeying with five different Force users, the little droid had seen enough to believe in the Force.

It had seen the amazing powers those who were able to touch it wielded. Almost as if they were able to warp reality itself, bend nature and technology and the universe to their will. Nothing could stop you, if you were strong enough in the Force. The master was a living example of that.

Again, the droid regretted that it had been deprived of its trusty stun ray during repairs. The gadget had been replaced with a unique shock arm, which was useful in most cases, but completely worthless when you wanted to stop someone sentient – or, in other words, a meatbag, depending on your personal views on organic life – from running off.

Then again, the droid decided that it was probably better for its circuits that it didn't have the stun ray. If it would dare attempt to stun the master after a detailed elaboration of its task and a command not to follow her, she would have fried its circuits for sure. What she had aimed at the droid was only a stun ray of her own, generated, naturally, through the Force.

The astromech saw that the master wouldn't be coming back for it. It knew little of the task she had set ahead of her, but while it was confident of her success, it wanted to accompany her. It had promised to bring back help. Well, it would, as soon as it would find this Kae person it was supposed to find.

Though knowledgeable in many areas, the droid knew next to nothing about Arren Kae. When it came down to it, it knew only the name and the description it had been given. And that she had a connection to the master, of course. It was lucky that the droid had been provided with a specification of gender – Arren wasn't a common name in the galaxy and if it would have to begin searching blindly for any human with that name, it would likely have taken years. Light years, to be precise.

Fortunately for the little astromech droid, this wasn't going to be like the hunt for the Star Forge, when they had to search entire worlds – Dantooine, Tatooine, Kashyyyk, Manaan and Korriban, to be exact – for hidden ancient devices, known as the Star Maps, created by the mythical Builders as keys to the puzzle. They held the secret of the location of an enormous space station which, at the time, was used by the Sith fleet as a factory for warships and equipment.

Finding Arren Kae was different. An artifact… easy. One particular person… hard. But Kae was far closer than the stunned droid would have imagined. Only that the name Kae was now foreign to her. Arren Kae had died in the Mandalorian wars, as far as the universe – and she – was concerned, thus there was no reason for her to reemerge under this identity that now seemed ridiculous.

From behind one of the nearby pillars came a woman, hooded and cloaked, fitting the description the droid had been given to the very last syllable. Her face old, her eyes milky white, with the shadow of a fog passing through them, she was indeed almost ancient-looking. Her features indicated a strict personality and she was, or had been, keen to experiment. Once, long ago, she had been a respected Jedi Master, the one who had been given the arduous task of raising the most amazing child of the galaxy as her student, a child who she prided herself in, who she viewed at times as her own.

Her own views were always grayish, a subject of much debate in the Jedi Order, but her student became faithful to her and she grew fonder of the young soul that had been entrusted to her, as did the student become fond of her, looking up to her as a role-model of sorts. She had given the child everything she could have, taught the child everything she knew.

It was never enough, it would never be. Like a black hole would never cease to hunger, the child couldn't be satisfied, ravenous when it came to knowledge, information. Over time, the child had discovered there was nothing more to learn from her. Staying was unacceptable, the only result would be stagnation. With some remorse, the child left her, seeking wisdom from other teachers across the galaxy, traveling far and wide, but never satisfied.

The woman once known as Kae had followed the young woman's progress closely. Yes, her student had become a young woman, strong-willed, beautiful, charismatic, a first class example of leadership when necessary. A titan, Kae knew, and became even more proud of the giant she had presented the galaxy with. Her first student would claim the galaxy effortlessly, due to her very presence. Pride was all she felt.

From Padawan to Knight, from Knight to Master, her student had passed with nothing short of amazing results in every task, every examination and, finally, became close to being the single key figure of the Jedi Order. Everything she could want, she would soon have, Kae was certain.

And then, the Mandalorian Wars came.

Strengthened by some invisible power, her student, now grown, returned to her. Their encounter left Kae both shaken and relieved. She knew that her former pupil wouldn't sit idly when something was going on. This pleased her. But there was something different about the woman she met that day, something strange. Never had there been a moment when Kae ceased wondering if her star pupil didn't have a bit of Mandalorian blood running in her veins, but that day, she was almost certain of it.

Another thing she was certain of was that her pupil knew her secret. But, as usual, she remained tactfully silent, not even bringing up the subject of the spark of a soul, a foreign creature, she must have sensed years ago, now strengthened. Kae had never informed her student of her pregnancy, though there was probably no need to do so. There was no need to point out the small, pale-skinned, white-haired and blue-eyed girl that sometimes reminded Kae of her pupil, not only in appearance.

Her student left her then, content with learning the last bit of information she needed, leaving to fight at the helm of the Republic forces in the war. Abandoned, though not alone, Kae resumed her ordinary life. Happiness with knowing that her student was meant for glory and power didn't last long.

The trial. Her expulsion from the Jedi Order. Somehow, they had found out about her affair with the Echani general, Yusanis. That could have perhaps been punished less cruelly, but when the shame of her birth had been revealed, the crime could not be left unpunished. The only reasonable choice was what she had been punished with – expulsion.

Ashamed, alone and grief-stricken, she had been forced to abandon the places she viewed as her home and become the follower. She followed her former student to war, welcomed with gratitude, and fought a great many battles. And then came the final battle… her supposed death… and she had been left with nothing once more.

Valor, honor, bravery, nobility­… those words seemed meaningless now. She wanted to find her old student. She needed to find her, for her own peace of mind. And then she found this place. Much had been explained to her, much became clear. She had reconsidered her position. And allies came quickly, far quicker than she would have imagined.

There were two of them – the major ones, the ones whose power was greater than that of the others. The two she took on as students, her first since her triumph with her first apprentice. Never had they proven themselves to be quite as satisfying to teach as her first. They had potential, true, but both lacked qualities necessary to make them true masters of the Force.

The first had learned more of pain than any living creature. He was more of a corpse filled with a last fleeing whiff of life than a living man. Once, he had been a student of the Sith, powerful and strong, now, spawned by the Mandalorian Wars, he became a shell of what he used to be. Still, his endurance had proven him formidable enough and while he lacked the ability to grasp the more gentle concepts of Force wielding, he was a fierce warrior and had his uses.

The other was undefined, incomprehensible. To try to understand what or who he was would be like trying to see the patterns of a dark fog, patterns that shimmered here and there, only to disappear once more into nothingness. It was from there that he had gotten his name – he was devoted to nothing, cared nothing about the Jedi, the Sith, the galaxy… only himself. His hunger was immense, but not insatiable in the way her first apprentice's was. This hunger was all consuming, with a will of its own, creating a hole in the Force. And, as all blank spots, it grew wider, until it became obvious that he had the power to devour others, the Force itself.

That pleased Kae. Over the years, feelings of hatred emerged from her core. Undefined at first, they became aimed at all possible directions, until they pointed at one enemy she wished to destroy. Impossible, it would seem… but there were ways. You simply had to know which string to pull.

Now, that very same woman walked towards the small droid, clearly tired, but knowing that what she had been pursuing was finally at hand. There were techniques within the Force to make one's presence small and insignificant and she had mastered them long ago. Predictably, when her former student hadn't been anticipating her presence here and was far too focused on other things, she was easy to miss.

Smirking, almost unnaturally for such an old woman, she looked at the droid, towering it.

She had never quite comprehended why her pupil loved machines so. From the beginning, all she wanted to know about were wires and circuits, parts and mechanisms. It had been up to Kae to teach her the value of persuasion and manipulation, showing her that not everything could be gained through machinery and gadgets. But the girl remained in love with machines, with their cool perfection, though she had learned that perhaps her Master was not the right person to speak to about this.

Her friendship with _that boy_, as Kae often referred to him, was another mystery to Kae. You could hardly find two more different people in the galaxy and yet, their personalities fit together like a wonderful jigsaw. The best and brightest of the Order, the other Masters called them. And they were. It was Kae, however, who saw the warning signs and discouraged the relationship, giving warnings through subtle means, creating barriers that would ensure that both of them would remain fixed on their goals and not on each other. Evidently, it failed.

His death wasn't at all surprising to Kae. After all, those who crossed her student never lived to tell the tale. After the kind speech she had recorded, however, even the cold heart of the woman who bore the name Arren Kae softened and accepted it. It was part of the past, however. Kae hoped that her student had learned to let go of the past, the memories… if only for that, she admitted to herself that perhaps the friendship with the boy wasn't useless after all and he had taught her flawless creation one important lesson about life, the universe, and everything.

Now, Arren Kae was looking at the droid. Her gaze then moved to the ship nearby, the last remaining thing she had left of her former student. She glanced at the sky – the hangar bay doors had remained opened after the ancient shuttle flew away. Even with her seemingly sightless eyes, she saw well enough. Anyway, it was only a gesture of melancholy.

"May your feet reach the end of your path soon, your heart unscarred, your mind untainted, your body unhurt and your soul whole, my child." Kae whispered, like a crone speaking a prophecy. The place channeled such powers, but she didn't have to rely on them that cool night.

Again, her eyes fell upon the droid. She didn't know how to repair it, truth to be told, but there were more than enough mechanic that would be more than willing to do so. It was a shame that her student didn't bother investigate the whole academy, really. It was deserted, certainly, but there were new things there as well.

Almost lazily, she strode through the hangar. The words that her pupil had spoken, recorded in the droid´s databanks rang in her ears. She alone seemed to be able to listen to the voice of her student without appearing to have taken a large quantity of spice. There was a nightmarish quality in the voice that ordered you to surrender to your darkest dreams only to be saved. Its skill to augment and influence was legendary.

_Find the Exile…find the Exile…_ Truthfully, Kae didn't really know such a person existed. She knew a lot about the final battle, but not this. The information provided filled a gaping hole in her field of knowledge.

One major chess piece was leaving the board for an unlimited period of time… it would seem that it remained up to her to drag another one into the field. She knew of the restlessness of her students. And her will was not law. There were disagreements… ambition… and hunger for power…

If all would go well, she would never have to do what the holo had been suggesting. Leaving now would be foolish. Searching blindly for an outcast on her own wasn't good, especially now. But the tempting thought that such a creature existed…

The old woman stopped in her tracks, but didn't look back. Perhaps she was wrong to think that her own pupil couldn't influence her at all. When she resumed her stride to the Core, another event had been set into motion.

Another echo moving through the Force.


	2. Chapter 1: A strange awakening

**Author's notes:** To all of you who were wondering what my Exile looks like – here you go. First bits of personality are here, too. When I play, I usually play female Exile, being a girl myself, so it was my first intention to make the Exile a her. The male Exile wasn't as attractive until I realized the finer points of making the Exile a he, some of which you mentioned. I wrote down a list of pro and contra for both genders and found an almost equal number of both for either gender. But I made my choice and thus, the Exile in this story was born. Read on and find out who it is. Anyway, I want to get rid of Peragus quickly, I skipped the prologue of the game, nothing happens there anyway, so on to the conversation with Atton and then we hack and slash our way right to the next important thing – getting da party members and fighting the HK-50.

**Dalis'ilhea**– I don't know if I'll be writing the whole story of KII… KI was pretty exhausting to write and took very long. First glimpses of the Exile are here, including physical description. Thanks! The start should be good, otherwise the rest won't be.

**Ryumasa the Ryuhaitou** – I'll need that. I'm writing three fics at the same time and fans of each are so demanding! Maybe I'll give up… I mean, what's the point? ;) Thanks, by the way – Kreia is pretty hard to write, with all her philosophical babble and I wanted to show her thoughts a bit.

**Kathleen** – (bows) thank you, here you go!

**Miss Becky**– (hands chocolate) Yes, it was Kreia! I'm a supporter of the Arren Kae theory. Thanks and here you go!

**Samurai Demon-God Sekikage** –Well, I read your review several times, listing the good points and crossing the bad ones. You brought out good ideas and I considered them. Read the chapter to see if this was an okay decision. PS – I'm not sure who to romance in this fic. Care to share thoughts on this?

**UnrealChopsuey** – maybe it'll be as long as VoS, who knows. Yes, Kreia is correct! (gives chocolate)

X X X

**Chapter 1 – A strange awakening**

X X X

I think I'll find another way  
There's so much more to know  
I guess I'll die another day  
It's not my time to go

For every sin, I'll have to pay  
I've come to work, I've come to play  
I think I'll find another way  
It's not my time to go

- Madonna, Die Another Day

X X X X

There was only silence in the void filled with nothingness… nothing, but a soul filled it. Small, seemingly insignificant, compared to the titans of the universe. But a spark of life was strong there, filled with such hope, such power, such… sadness. And when one tried to sense if it was truly there, not just an illusion created by the wild, vivid imagination of an observer, they saw only death.

A blind spot. There wasn't a void surrounding it… _it_ was the void that wasn't a void at all, the silence in the symphony of the Force. Such a peaceful thing, the silence. It almost seemed to be completely calm in its strange slumber. A sleep without awakening.

But then, against all odds, thoughts, possibilities, a voice, elderly and directive, entered the mind. And, being commanding in its nature, it gave a simple order, an order that perhaps changed the fate of the sleeping warrior.

_Awaken._

The mind obeyed without question, commanding the body to do the same. Vivid green eyes, warm, like the grass of a sunlit meadow, but still drowsy from the strange slumber, opened sleepily. The presence of a liquid surrounding the body, preventing movement, was noted. Slowly, consciousness began slipping again.

But before it could escape for good, the strange liquid was gone, leaving cold durasteel pressing against an even cooler cheek. With a low moan, consciousness returned, the soul found its place in the healed body. Summoning all strength and power, persuading muscles to function, the human arose, straightening up. Green eyes swiftly scanned the other tanks, but saw only death.

Alone, unarmed and exposed not only due to the lack of clothing, the Exile, the outcast of the Jedi Order, left the medbay, searching for anything that could be of use – primarily, information.

This facility certainly wasn't the Harbinger.

There was only one exit, as the Exile discovered, and that one was stuck. A weapon was needed, fast. A computer console in the nearby storage rooms provided access to the medical supplies and passage to the morgue – it was doubtful that anything useful would be found there, but perhaps someone was alive. It was strange, though, that there was a lockdown… and the dead people in the kolto tanks weren't good for easing one's thoughts.

Only two corpses were in the morgue, a man and a woman. The Exile studied the woman's face for a moment, her sightless milky eyes, without pupils, white as a thick fog, her long hair, held in beautiful golden clasps, each richly carved. She was cloaked, but there was no sign of injury upon her. Then again, she seemed very old.

The other corpse was covered in a white blanket, but one arm still clutched a useable plasma torch. That was, perhaps, a way to pry the door open. While the Exile attempted to pry the dead man's fingers open, the old, seemingly dead woman, unnoticed for the time being, slowly rose to a sitting position, as if simply waking from a long slumber, like the Exile.

The woman's gaze fell upon the Exile, who apparently didn't sense it, immersed in the task ahead. Even though she was clearly blind, the smallest, briefest of smiles graced her wrinkled face. The description she had been given fitted to the very last syllable.

Tall and slightly skinny in appearance, the Exile's very stance showed the behavior of someone who had seen days in the army and in the Jedi Order both. What naked flesh was exposed showed both physical strength and scaring, though the later was an aged memory of a war long past. Like any veteran, even when lost and confused, his head remained high and looking into the future. Deep thought was mirrored in his eyes, the scars of war etched into his face, as they were into his mind. His pale face was handsome, framed by a military haircut of light brown hair, his eyebrows and thin beard of a slightly deeper shade. All in all, he showed experience far beyond his years – he seemed something over thirty.

Lowering the hood of her cloak, shielding her eyes completely, the aged woman stood up from the bed. "Find what you are looking for amongst the dead?" her raspy, aged voice rang out, with a distinct sharpness.

The Exile, who had by now managed to grasp the plasma torch firmly, turned sharply, but quickly relaxed when he saw who was approaching him. "I thought you were dead." He said with suspicion.

"Close to death, yes, closer than I would like." The old woman inhaled a bit deeper. "You have the smell of the kolto tank about you. How do you feel?"

"Drained." The Exile noted bluntly. But then he recognized the voice. "Was it you I heard in the kolto tank."

"Yes, I had hoped as much. I had slept for too long and could not awaken."

"It may be I reached out unconsciously, and your mind must have been a willing one. Or perhaps you have been trained for such things?"

Evasiveness was the obvious answer. "So you can touch minds… and feign death. Who are you?" was the obvious question.

The woman didn't hesitate. "I am Kreia." The first of many truths from only a certain point of view. "And I am your rescuer… as you are mine. Tell me, do you recall what happened?"

"Last I remember, I booked passage on the Harbinger and was on my way to the Mid Rim… then I wake up here, deprived of my possessions, it seems," he added in a mutter, "and discover from a computer console that the medbay patients were all killed due to an overdose of sedatives. With the exception of yours truly." His eyes narrowed very slightly. "Would you know anything about that?"

"I do not know… why did they spare you?" Kreia inquired.

"I am trained to resist the poisons of the body."

A nod. "Indeed, a Jedi trance would protect one from such poisons. In fact, the sedatives may have been intended to render you unconscious for some time."

The Exile raised his hands in a protective gesture. "Wait a moment – I'm no Jedi, lady. Last I recall, they chucked me out of their godforsaken Order ten years ago. Now unless this is a parallel universe where the Council was all for the war and there's still a record of a guy called Deon Emory being a Jedi, you are pretty much mistaken."

Kreia wasn't impressed by the joke in the very least. "Your ship was attacked. You were the only survivor. A result of your Jedi training, no doubt. Your stance, your walk tells me you are a Jedi. Your walk is heavy, you carry something that weights you down."

"You seem to know a lot about Jedi techniques."

"And so do you." Kreia noted with a small smile. "Perhaps we could discuss it at length later on… let us focus on the now."

"Alright – what is this place? Where are we?"

"I do not know. I was removed from the events of the world as I slept. A survey of the surroundings may provide the answers we seek. The ship we have arrived in must still be in this place. We should recover it and leave."

"Why do you think we need to leave?"

We were attacked once and I fear our attackers won't give up the hunt so easily. Without transport, weapons and information, they will find us easy prey indeed."

"You seem nervous – what's wrong?" Deon noted.

"Even as I slept, I felt much unrest here – I saw strange visions, minds colored with fear – now, everything here feels terribly silent." Kreia said, almost to herself. Then, as if she remembered that she was not alone, she regained the firmness of her voice. "I would find out as much as you can about this place quickly – I feel we will need to depart as suddenly as we arrived.

Deon frowned. "You wouldn't help much, just having been resurrected. No offense." In his eyes, Kreia really seemed old enough to be some millennia old woman who had been revived due to the side effects of some ancient amulet. He had heard of such things in the Jedi archives… but, as he thought of Jedi, he mentally slapped himself. "I'll have a look around on my own."

"You may wish to extend your search to some clothes… if only for proper first impressions." Kreia noted, but while the remark hinted humor, her voice was perfectly emotionless. "I leave you to the explorations of this place. Here I will remain and attempt to center myself."

With those enigmatic words, Kreia sat down in the middle of the chamber, cross-legged – an uncanny feat for someone her age – and placed her hands on her knees, straightened her back and clearly began meditating.

Deon didn't question this. From what he had seen of this Kreia, he got the impression that she was the kind of person that only gave hints, be it subtle or obvious, and enjoyed watching others come to the solution on their own, for good or ill. Then she either counseled them or berated them. That signaled a careful watcher of her surroundings and a calculative personality. Other than that, he could hardly claim he understood the woman, her purpose in the facility or the reason why she saved him from death.

Being what he was – an ex-Jedi with military training – the clumsy droids, clearly not meant for trying to take someone's head off, were no real challenge for him, even less when he located a vibroblade on one of the corpses. All suggested that the droids somehow became mad and attacked the miners… but the fact that the medbay camera was aimed at his tank was disturbing. The holorecords granted limited information. And the sealed hatch in front of him wouldn't budge.

_'Just great.'_ Deon thought. After all that had happened to him, he would remain in this stupid facility with a high mortality rate. _'Wonderful. '_

_'This is the exit… strange. In my visions, it was open…'_

Deon nearly jumped. Throughout his Jedi years, he had experienced telepathy, but now, a decade after severing his ties with the Force, hearing a voice in his mind was one of the last things he expected. Even less hearing Kreias voice. He recognized it as the one he heard in the kolto tank.

_Kreia?_ He both thought and called out the name, unsure if he still had the ability to reply to messages through sheer force of will. But if the old woman heard it, he didn't find out. The only reply was silence. But he was a bit further from the morgue now and his abilities couldn't be trusted. After all, you lose skill when you don't practice it, he reasoned. This was natural.

The Exile proceeded, collecting items that would be of use to him, until he finally reached a holo that was of some use. Not that he needed to sneak past the droids, but the stealth belt the man in the holo mentioned would prove useful in the future, he was sure of that. Confidently, Deon proceeded to the next room, which was behind an airlock-like corridor.

_'Be careful.' s_aid the elderly voice in his head, _'There is much energy in the room beyond, yet it stems from nothing that lives.'_

While he wasn't startled this time, it still came as a surprise. Deons eyes widened slightly and then he frowned. _'Kreia? What-?' _he thought, assuming that if the old woman could see that the hatch had been sealed, she would probably be able to sense this thought from within his mind.

_'Can you not sense them?' _the slightly woeful voice interrupted, _'Reach out… cast aside what you… see and instead, reach out with your perceptions.'_ And, truthfully, once the Exile accepted those words and tried to do as Kreia said, he could sense the four droids in the next room. It would be a bit harder to destroy them, in such close quarters, but nothing dreadful.

Thus the Exile charged into the room, destroying the droids without breaking a sweat, before the machines could target him with the cumbersome mining blasters they had. Once the last one fell down, the voice, now somewhat satisfied, spoke again.

_'Ah. You hear it. It is faint… but it is there.'_

Surely enough, Deon could feel something… strange. As if the sedatives were wearing off, a rush of energy. It was somehow familiar. _'Is something wrong?'_

_'It is the Force you feel.' _The voice announced. _'It has not been so long for you to forget.'_

As if a cold shower had been activated, Deon snapped out of the satisfied state. He didn't want to feel the Force anymore… when he last felt it, too many terrible things had transpired. After giving up the life of a Jedi, he had no need for it. Though not entirely foreign yet, the Force wasn't a welcome guest in the life of Deon Emory anymore.

_'I don't want this. Not again, never again.' _he didn't really mean to send it to Kreia, but he was trying so hard to shut it off that there was probably nothing he could have done about it.

_'Do not turn away from it.'_ Kreia commanded, _'Come – I shall guide you down the familiar paths. You will need it if we are to survive and escape this place.'_

And, at that precise moment, though only the aged woman in the medbay knew it for sure, the Force had returned to the Exile, in a new form, one that was far more useful to the plans of the woman calling herself Kreia.


	3. Chapter 2: the Weaver

**Author´s notes:** As promised, I continued a bit, but this might turn out very slow, as I have said before, since rewriting this stuff takes a long time.

X X X

**Chapter 2 – the Weaver**

X X X X

Kreia remained sitting in the morgue. Perhaps it was a bit morbid to most people´s tastes, to meditate when a corpse is lying on the nearest bed, but there were few places on Peragus safer than this room at the current moment. she kept following the Exile, if only mentally, and watched his progress. Thus far, she didn't have a full opinion on him.

He was… complicated. The lightheartedness was more like a shield to hide the core to which she wanted to progress, but she didn't want to force herself into his mind. Waiting would do her more good. And she had time – he was far from ready to face what lied ahead. The wound in the Force was evident, but she understood that he didn't quite understand or perhaps even realize what had happened at Malachor. And so far, she thought it was for the best.

Now slowly restoring his connection to the Force, Kreia watched him easily cleanse much of the facility of the rogue mining droids and other equipment that went insane. But then, not so far away, she sensed the presence of… another. Yet instantly, she felt as if she hat reached some sort of wall preventing her from passing further into his thoughts – she had only come to the conclusion that it was a male.

_´Ah… beyond this door, someone yet lives…´_ she thought to herself, but knew the thoughts would be projected to the Exile as well. She made no attempt to prevent that. ´_Be mindful – his thoughts are… difficult to read. But you have nothing to fear from this one. And he might yet prove useful.´_

Indeed, there was potential in someone who managed to shield their minds from even someone as skilled in invading the thoughts of another. She see any meaning in listening in to their conversations. Confident that the Exile – or Deon, she remembered, as she would attempt to call him from now on, even though he remained marked as the Exile in her mind… and that in itself was far more than a name – could handle it just fine, she resumed her meditations.

But then, a presence, like a quiet shadow, neared itself. Yet there was pain in it, pain greater than the screams of those the Void, Nihilus, had devoured, pain that gave you a glimpse of the surface of Malachor. She sensed it, recognized it, and for a moment, a twinge of fear passed even through her. He could ruin everything. But he wouldn't. she would see to that.

Standing up with the agility of a much younger woman, Kreia stormed to the place where she knew the Exile would emerge from the lower levels. Truly, the door opened moments later, revealing him. He seemed to have taken her little hint about clothes to heart, and was now wearing a blueish uniform she thought might have belonged to some miner before. Still, the fact he had a vibroblade with him was enough.

"I have felt a disturbance." Kreia said simply when he came over the quick flash of surprise that she was up and ready. "Our enemy has arrived. We must leave at once."

"Enemy?" Deon asked, perplexed.

"The one who fired upon the Ebon Hawk as we attempted to rescue you." She could tell he knew she was purposely avoiding giving away names. "And he will not let us go without blood being shed."

The Exile shrugged and made a weak attempt at cheerfulness – it was a moment where Kreia could truly see how much he came to loathe battle and wanted to forget it entirely. "So what? If he´s willing to bleed a little, the more fun for me."

"You know much of battle." Kreia quietly said, "Enough to know that this is a battle you cannot win."

Sighing deeply, the Exile nodded. "I have been away for far too long… my hopes for a peaceful, unnoticed return have proven to be naive."

"Indeed, but you show wisdom in realizing that. You are young." The Exile seemed to want to object, but then looked at Kreia and simply nodded once more. "And the young make naive mistakes."

"And age doesn't?"

"Ah, it does… but the mistakes of the age are foolish, not naïve. But we can speak later. We need to make our way to the docking area on this level. I fear the airlock has already been opened, and if so, we must be on our guard. It we cannot reach the Ebon Hawk, then we must find a way to escape on the ship that has docked here." The elderly woman explained, sincerely hoping that the latter wouldn't be required.

"Let´s go." The Exile produced another vibroblade almost from nowhere and handed it to Kreia. "I can defend you, but just in case."

"I don't need you to protect me, Exile." Kreia said, taking the weapon. "I am here to protect you." And with that, she briskly set off through the corridors, leaving a staring Deon Emory behind to catch up with her.

He caught up a few steps later, but the change in his behavior was noted – he seemed to radiate more respect towards Kreia, which the old woman appreciated. It would be essential, perhaps… and her last apprentices didn't respect her enough, thus this was a more than welcome change.

The Exile seemed to know where he was going, because soon after, they came to a main console of sorts, bypassing several deactivated or destroyed droids. And then, Kreia saw the man whose presence she had noticed before. The Exile was taller than he, but this one seemed more rugged in appearance than any war veteran ever could. He had dark brown hair and eyes that revealed… nothing. Judging by his attire, appearance and the way he greeted them, she could think of merely one word to describe him effectively.

Scoundrel.

"What in space is going on?" he asked sharply, frowning, "Who´s this?" he nodded to Kreia, "Another Jedi? What, did you guys suddenly start breeding when I wasn't looking?"

"It´ll take too long to explain." The Exile voiced Kreia´s thoughts. "We need to leave. Now."

That put the scoundrel in his place. "Uh… all right. I´m guessing that Republic ship that just docked isn't carrying friends of yours."

"I hope your talent for understatement is offset by your skill with a blaster." Kreia said quietly, but not gently or kindly, "If not, then I fear our time together will be short indeed."

"Yeah, and I´m also good at running and drinking, your majesty." The scoundrel replied, glaring a bit at her. "And even if you two aren't big friends of the Republic, that warship´s the only way off this station. Good thing we have a clear run to the shi…"

"Threat: Master, perhaps I did not enunciate clearly the last time we spoke." A cold, metallic voice cut through the air. A droid, tall, malevolent looking, painted with the colors of durasteel, armed and ready, was waiting for them. "I suggested that you should shut down, stay put and wait for rescue."

The Exile seemed to have been expecting this. "No, you were clear – I just don't listen to assassin droids."

"Clarification: ´Assassin droid´ is such a crude term, Master, reserved for durasteel drones uploaded with only the most anarchic kill-programs." That suited this trash heap well, Kreia thought privately.

It turned out that the droid was an assassin model, HK-50, sent to capture the Exile, because some wealthy client on a faraway world was "very interested" in possessing the "last of the Jedi". While it was bad that some pompous old windbag that happened to be well-connected with the Hutts or the Exchange wanted to claim Deon, Kreia viewed it as a simple annoyance that could complicate their journey only slightly.

The droid, after being defeated, destroyed itself… but they didn't leave before the Exile went to take a look at the mechanisms of it and, after half a minute, came back with some sort of functional part. Kreia knew little of droids, but for a moment, she saw a parallel between her first and her last student… and for a moment, she saw a familiar face in a mind´s eye, and caught a glimpse of the reason why Revan wanted this man found.

Then, they easily proceeded to the docked ship, and Kreia realized something very strange. "Something is wrong… I sense no one on board."

"You ´sense no one on board´?" the scoundrel, Atton, as she read in the Exile´s mind, mocked, "Sense any assassin droids creeping behind us like last time?"

"Everyone here has been slain, yet there are few signs of battle, no carbon scoring, no blaster fire." Kreia explained, ignoring him, "This place has been hit by assassins of a different sort."

"Then what are we doing on this ship? We were better off in the facility!" Atton glared at both of them, sizing them up, then coming to the conclusion: "You two are supposed to be Jedi? You two are the worst Jedi I´ve ever met!"

"There´s nowhere else to go – the facility is sealed off." Deon interrupted, "We can bypass the force field to the hangar by getting to the engine room on this ship, then exiting through the fuel pipe."

"Look, I don't mean to cast another shadow on this, but even if you could reach the ship you came on, it wouldn't matter." Atton said gruffly.

"No, it would – if we can download the orbital drift charts of this ship. I haven't forgotten, don't worry." Deon said quickly.

"Well…" clearly, Atton was trying to find a loophole, but there was none. "We´d have to get to the bridge… I mean… well, that´s the biggest problem I can see."

Kreia nodded. "That is a sound plan – for the moment. let us go." But the Exile seemed to almost zone out and jumped a bit when Kreia sharply interrupted the silence. "Our enemies gather while we wait here."

"Forgive me, Kreia…I was distracted for a moment. i´ll be more mindful of the present."

Impressed a bit, Kreia nodded with a quiet: "Very well."

X X X

"I have a bad feeling about this."

They were far into the ship now, having raided the crew quarters, discovered a few disturbing medical logs and killed a whole bunch of Sith assassins, when Atton suddenly stopped and said that. And Kreia, unwillingly, shared his sentiments. Something was wrong. Even the Exile´s assurance that they would be careful was not enough.

And it was true. Meters away from there, they stopped and turned. Only Kreia recognized the tall… creature behind them. And she knew that he must not be allowed to reach the Exile.

"This battle is mine alone. I am not defenseless. He cannot kill what he cannot see – and power has blinded him long ago – run! I shall be along shortly!" she rushed through the door, sealing it through the Force.

They stood in silence for long, a silence that could have been deafening. Then, the quiet rasping of his voice reached her, mocking. "I sense you, my master. Faint. Weak."

"Your senses betray you. As you betrayed me." Kreia retorted fearlessly.

"After all that has happened, still you live." Sion began walking towards her, slowly, a sight that would have frightened most living creatures. Not her. "You are difficult to kill."

"For one as limited as you, perhaps. To have fallen so far and learned nothing – that is your failing."

"The failure is _yours_." Sion snapped back, "No longer do your whispers crawl within my skull. No longer do I suffer beneath teachings that weaken us. And now you run in search of the Jedi." He stopped near her, but simply looked at the door behind her, as if attempting to trace the Exile. "They are all dead… save one. And one broken Jedi is not enough to stop the darkness that is to come."

"Perhaps." Kreia retorted challengingly, "We shall see." And, assuming a stance, she prepared for the inevitable. Yet her strength was not sufficient to prevent the intense pain that struck her like a flash of lightning moments later.

The vibroblade dropped to the floor.

X X X

How she even got to the Ebon Hawk, no one knew. Certainly not she. Yet the pain faded during the difficult escape, and she was able to counsel the others during the chase. There was no other choice – fate decreed that Peragus had to be destroyed. Compared, to the Exile, it was nothing.

And then, there was nothing. She discovered a great many things – how they came to be on Peragus, how things unraveled while she was not present. And then, the Exile sought her out to get some information. While he was not as eager to ask questions as Revan was, Kreia thought there was some similarity between them – yet another one.

She answered what she could – about the wars, what happened afterwards, and bits and pieces of what she didn't want to reveal yet. Deon proved a good listener and obeyed even when she sent him away to check upon "the fool", as she had labeled Atton by now. She wondered just how many more of such "friends" she would have to put up with by the time their journey was over. For now, she would tolerate him, however.

Once on Telos, she would perhaps be able to return to studying the strings she was able to pull once more. For now, they were safe… for now, all was going well.

Telos was simply another part of the greatest test.


	4. Epilogue – The Second Hunt

**EDIT: Reposting the epilogue...**

**Author's notes:** This took very, very long, but I decided to skip to the end and write somewhat of an epilogue. This story is hereby over… I'd have to get an idea for a KotOR fic to write a new one. Anyway, here you go, hope you like it!

Cheers!

Arachne

**Dark Phoenix 13X** – sorry it took so long, here you go!

**Ryumasa the Ryuhaitou** – Indeed, very rare. Here is the chapter, enjoy!

**Samurai Demon-God Sekikage** – yes, Deon is one of the in-game Exiles. Well, the romance thing is tough, but there's bits of both in this one.

X X X

**Epilogue – The Second Hunt**

X X X X

Girl  
you lived your life like a sleepin' swan  
Your time has come to go deeper  
Girl  
your final journey has just begun  
Your destiny chose the reaper

No fear  
Destination darkness  
No fear  
Destination darkness  
No fear

Girl  
rain falls down from the northern skies  
Like poisoned knives with no mercy  
Girl  
close your eyes for the one last  
Sleepless nights from here to eternity

the Rasmus, No Fear

X X X X

Deon Emory sat aboard the Ebon Hawk, gazing at his lightsaber with only remote interest. His thoughts were far away from the ship, or its destination. The feeling of leaving some important part of him back on Malachor V just didn't vanish, no matter how he tried to convince himself that the galaxy was better off without one psychotic Sith, especially one who wanted to kill the Force itself.

But why didn't he die there with Kreia? If that was even her name… upon remembering that Atris had laughed in his face and gave him a negative answer to that question, he dismissed searching for the true identity of the old woman. Her words, however, were harder to forget. She had lied to them all, told some really disgusting but well-crafted lies to everyone around her. Hell, she had fooled them all.

Anyone with a connection to Revan was valuable to the Exile, however. From what Kreia (or Traya) had told him, Revan left the known galaxy in search of "true Sith". He snorted. If the Sith he had encountered were cheap copies of the true ones, he would rather have the cheap copies. Most of them weren't bright enough to tell one end of the lightsaber from the other.

His thoughts traveled back to Revan. It had been over a decade since he had last encountered her, but he still cherished the memory of probably the most famous war hero of the current age. They were never exactly close – Revan always kept a fine distance from anyone. And now, Deon felt he understood at least a tiny bit why. A plan so thought out, with such wide-spreading effects, detailed to the very end, could have crumbled easily if anyone else knew about it. the illusion of a Sith invasion was a good masquerade for Revan´s real intentions.

He sighed. His knowledge of Revan wasn't as limited as that of the rest of the galaxy. Knowing that she was in fact a female was already treasured knowledge, but seeing her face was a privilege only the highest ranking in the army could boast they had been given. To his luck, he was one of them. the few times he had met Revan left a deeper imprint on his way of thinking and his thoughts than he would have suspected years ago. Often, he found himself thinking where Revan might be… though wandering through the galaxy aimlessly for years, he was aware of the news of her death.

Incomprehensible as it might be to others, the Exile never truly believed it. that hunch proved true when Revan reappeared, even stronger. Though he could not feel the Force anymore, there was always something in his mind that told him that Revan was alive. The news of her return didn't come unexpected. Weeks later, the galaxy was celebrating Malak´s demise. He, Deon, frowned upon that. he had known Malak as a strong warrior (though he thought Revan did well to see to that his tactics were supervised at all times) and, more importantly, a close friend of Revan´s. it had been Kreia, five years later, who cleared things up for him.

After saying that Revan had departed from Trayus Academy long ago, she spoke of how he, Deon, had to leave as well, leaving all loved ones behind him. "It was the choice Revan made… to follow a goal without hesitation, even if it meant the utter sacrifice."

"You mean killing Malak?" the Exile inquired.

The dying Sith frowned, "From a certain point of view. Killing someone so close to her was a very personal sacrifice." The old woman observed him, despite her sightless eyes. "Revan had loved him for a long time, but abandoned personal interests for the sake of others. After the betrayal, she was left with no choice. It was a lesson of strength, of breaking what limits us… and she was never meant for settling down. Revan was born to fight and to win. In the end, I suppose, Malak realized that and made the same sacrifice."

The frown on Deon´s face deepened. The same sacrifice… and now Kreia was asking that same thing of him, to follow Revan… but if he only had a trace, some clue to where she had gone…

"May I join you?" a deep female voice suddenly asked.

Deon looked up sharply, smiled and nodded, moving a bit further up the medical bed he had been sitting on to make some room. Visas sat down next to him, glancing at her lap. "I sense something is troubling you. The encounter with the Sith Lords left you marked… I feel it, and the others surely do as well."

The Exile sighed. "You cannot help me with this, Visas."

"I pledged myself to you." the Miraluka said, ignoring the fact Deon shook his head no – meaning he didn't need and didn't want servants, "I wish to help you on whatever quest you take on. Malachor has been a hard experience for all of us. Tell me what is troubling you."

The human sighed, but said nothing. He felt like under and x-ray when Visas looked at him like that, knowing that the Miralukas saw in a very different way than most other creatures. It didn't help when he felt some curiosity and surprise from her – she had evidently found something strange. He didn't bother blocking her, so he couldn't know what she had seen.

"There is a woman in your mind." Visas said, slightly timidly, "A human. She is very beautiful… but saddened, hardened by many battles." The Exile didn't need any explanations this time. "Who is she?"

"Revan." he noted quietly, without hesitation. It was surprising that Visas wasn't able to tell, but perhaps she was testing if he would be willing to tell her anything.

She chose not to comment, but simply nodded slightly. "I see. And… you wish to follow her?"

Deon sighed. "I must." He proceeded to quickly retell what Kreia had told him back in Trayus Core, but didn't delve into details. Visas was listening carefully, sitting almost without any trace of movement, and the Exile knew she was able to understand his wish not to remember too much of the horrors, and accept that.

She spoke up only when he had finished his narrative. "I will come with you."

"No!" He thought she understood that he was meant to go alone. "I can't take anyone with me – and I don't want to endanger any of you."

Before the Miraluka had a chance to open her mouth to object, the medbay door opened again, revealing another, this time slightly shorter and human, woman, dressed almost completely in green leather. Fiery red hair dropped into her bright eyes and she folded her arms almost immediately.

"As much as I hate to interrupt the newest session of playing doctor, we've found something." the petite bounty hunter noted briskly, but not that snappishly this time. She also went through a lot on Malachor.

"What is it?" Deon quickly asked, getting to his feet.

"Bao-Dur said T3´s acting strangely again – you know, buzzing and beeping at the wrong time?" Mira rolled her eyes, "Keeps saying something about some kinda mission, not sure what it means… Brianna was just saying something about Atris searching for something in the droid. Anyway, we found some old holo there, but it won't access, ´n´ so they sent me to get you."

The Exile went straight into the main hold, the two women following him closely. It seemed that the whole crew had assembled there, since the ship was currently on autopilot, and everyone was watching Bao-Dur´s attempts to get something done on the astromech droid, T3-M4.

It seemed, however, that no one was willing or able to help him.

HK-47´s red eyes were watching the scene with amusement, but that may have been because he had gotten rid of the malicious G0-T0 droid effectively, Atton was leaning against the wall, Mandalore was sitting in one of the chairs, almost casually, and Brianna, the last of the five Echani Handmaidens, was conversing with Mical, a Republic agent, both now turned Jedi Knights.

Everyone turned to look at the newly arrived Exile and stopped looking bored or concerned for a moment. Bao-Dur withdrew the hydrospanner and stood up with a sigh. "I can't do more, General." he told Deon, "It keeps requesting some sort of ID or code to access the holo… maybe you'll have more luck."

"I just hope it isn't voice-locked like everything else on this damned heap of junk." Deon muttered as he headed towards the astromech droid. He crouched and looked at the small droid carefully, touching a panel gently. the astromech beeped almost cheerfully, showing no sign of concern.

Surprisingly, though, as if it reacted to the impulse of touch, the droid backed away slightly, then began projecting a life-sized image. Deon dropped unceremoniously to the ground, but picked himself up quite easily, ignoring what seemed to be a snigger from Mandalore´s side of the room.

Everyone else was looking at the holo, however, though it appeared that nobody, with the exception of him and now, Visas, recognized the person. It was a woman, tall and young-looking, with a pale face, finely carved features, sleek golden hair pulled back in a simple fashion and penetrating blue eyes that seemed to have a life of their own. Her clothing, however, they recognized. Every sentient being in the galaxy knew Revan´s preferred choice of clothing.

"This message is intended for the former Jedi Master Arren Kae." The holo-Revan said in a calm, almost soothing voice, with little of any emotion they would have expected to hear in it.

"Your ingenious idea of an escape from the galaxy intrigues me, but do not think that all are so blind to ignore your distinct presence in the galaxy, Arren." Brianna paled distinctly after those words – after all they had been through, the crew knew most of each other's backstories, and the fact that the Handmaiden's mother had been a Jedi killed at Malachor was somewhat common knowledge by now.

"I don't know how long it'll take for T3 to find you, but I need to ask you for one last favor." Revan straightened up even more. "I am leaving known space in search of the true Sith we have discussed when we met last time. It might take me years, but I can only achieve my goals using stealth and secrecy – I am leaving all I have gained thus far behind. But I'm not leaving to be forgotten.

I need you to seek out several specific people, as soon as possible, no matter how long I will be gone. They have each been given instructions before my departure, if you tell them your name and that I have sent you, they will know what to do. I expect them all to be still known throughout the galaxy, thus your search shouldn't be that hard.

The first of these people is Canderous, of the Mandalorian clan Ordo. He might prove harder to find than the others, since I assume he wouldn't want to stay in Republic space. I can only suggest Dxun as a place to start the search – we have discussed that before I left, so there is a chance he might have returned there. If my faith in him was well-placed, and I have no doubt that it was, you should encounter remnants of the clans there… so I would search for Mandalore."

By now, almost everyone was looking at Mandalore, some curious, some surprised that he knew Revan, others frowning. He showed no sign of noticing… then again, it was hard to see what he was thinking, since he wore the mask at all times.

"Second on the list is Carth Onasi, another old acquaintance of mine. While he isn't honor-bound to help, I don't think he has forgotten what I asked of him or the journey we went through together. Knowing him, I would say he has returned to Telos, being a native of that planet. Citadel Station would be a good place to start.

Third is Bastila Shan, of whom you have surely heard, even in your isolation. I don't know how strong the bond between us is, but I made her promise not to follow me… tell her she can break the promise now. I will need the Jedi's help this time, because even I cannot fight an army on my own.

Last of these might prove impossible, but you must try – Deon Emory, one of the former generals of the Mandalorian Wars."

The Exile raised his eyebrows, highly surprised by this.

"You will understand why once you encounter him. What matters is that his presence would aid matters tremendously." Revan paused for a moment, smiling faintly, "I regret that I am unable to speak to you in person, though I much desire to do so. Yet if anyone understands why I must haste, it's you. Take care…" the following word seemed to have some difficulty getting out of her mouth without sounding ironic. "master. And… I am sorry about what happened at Malachor. I hope that one day, you will understand. May the Force Be With You."

The hologram flickered and disappeared after a second, but left behind it probably the loudest silence that the Ebon Hawk had ever heard. Not one crewmember dared speak up, until finally, Atton seemed unable to take it anymore, and glanced at Mandalore.

"So she was talking about you?" he asked, trying hard to sound casual. "I mean, I don't know how many clans there are or how to tell them apart, but she seemed quite certain."

After a moment of silence, Mandalore nodded curtly. "And she had a right to be. She was talking about me. And yeah, I know both Onasi and Shan, so don't bother asking." He said before any sound managed to come out of Atton´s already opened mouth.

Instead, Mira posed a question. "How d´you know them? They're quite big in the Republic, an´ you sound like you're on good terms with both of them."

"On civil terms, I'd say." Mandalore corrected her, "Neither of them are immune to the usual prejudice… but we traveled together, out of necessity. That was way back, during the war with Malak. Revan always had a talent for attracting people she could use, so we were quite a bunch of various races and personalities."

"Amendment: the Master's companions were a group of whining meatbags with psychological issues of various levels." HK-47 jumped in, somewhat gleefully.

T3 beeped reproachfully, but the assassin droid ignored it. Atton looked surprised for a moment. "You're Revan´s? Figures." He added, glancing at HK.

Mandalore seemed to smirk under the helmet. "Yeah, the astromech was bought on Taris so we could get into a Sith base­… the assassin is custom made by Revan personally."

"No wonder someone would want to steal the designs and create their own copies." Bao-Dur interjected, clearly trying to think of someone who would have access to such things.

"Who else was with you?" Deon asked before the crew would start discussing possible thieves.

After a moment of thought, Mandalore answered: "Onasi was with Revan before I joined up, then a Twi´lek kid, Mission Vao, and a Wookiee," Mira winced slightly, "called Zaalbar, me, Shan, the droids, a Cathar Jedi named Juhani and the old Jedi hermit Jolee Bindo."

He shook his head, "I haven't seen most of them in years, so I can only guarantee what you know – Shan and Onasi are big in the Republic, and the droids are here. I'd say the kid and her Wookiee went to Kashyyyk, Zaalbar was some sort of prince there. As for the two Jedi – no idea, they might be dead."

"And what was your task? All I know is that you destroyed some sort of space station and killed Malak." Mandalore briefly explained about their quest for the Star Maps and how they visited several planets.

Another silence followed, this time broken by Brianna. "And… did the droid… did it… find my mother?" she asked quietly, looking at T3. The astromech gave off a series of beeps that were easily translated as a yes. The former Handmaiden paled.

The droid then proceeded to explain the true identity of Kreia, and this time, it was the Exile who paled. As far as he was concerned, most of the people around him didn't understand what the beeping meant, and the droid was pretty quiet, so only he heard. He felt sick, however. So this was why Kreia didn't want her trained… but she wanted her around. for more reasons than he would have anticipated, it seems.

He decided it would be best not to tell anyone of this, but he glanced at Brianna for a moment. Fortunately, she was gazing at the ground, so she didn't notice, but he felt a sudden pity for the Echani warrior then. After having to kill her sisters in self-defense, she didn't deserve to be tortured by the knowledge of who her mother had become.

"We should return to Telos." Mical suddenly suggested, startling everyone, not only because of speaking up, but because he sounded very convinced that it was the right thing to do. "We should return to Citadel and alert the Admiral and Bastila of this matter. After all, Revan wanted that… and I don't think Master Kae managed to get to them, otherwise we would have known."

There was a murmur of agreement in the main hold, since none of them was all too keen to rush into battle straight after the horrors of Malachor. But the Exile knew better. Admiral Onasi had wished him a safe journey for a reason… there was no return for him now. He would have to go search for Revan… even if he would have to go alone.

"No." Deon noted clearly, stepping forward.

"Why not?" Atton asked with a frown. "It's about the only place in the galaxy where we're still welcome, and not because of the gigantic bounty on your head, pal."

"I know… we can stop there for a moment, so you can get to Citadel, but I have to leave."

"Why? Where do you need to go all of a sudden?" Mira asked sharply, frowning deeply at the Exile. Deon opened his mouth to explain, but Visas spared him the effort of reliving the horrors of the last few hours by retelling the tale herself. Suddenly, he was glad he had told someone.

Mira, however, still looked at him as if he had just fallen out of the sky. "You're nuts, D!" she exclaimed when Visas fell silent. "You've just wiped out one pretty festering Sith den – and you're off to look for another one?"

"I promised."

"Hasn't it occurred to you that that old hag might have tricked you again?" Atton joined in the conversation. "She was good at tricking trusting people, you know – falling for the same old trick twice isn't good."

Deon shook his head. "She was telling the truth this time. I just… know."

The five other freshly trained Jedi in the room looked at him with curiosity and some skepticism, but said nothing. It seemed, however, that it was Mandalore who understood his way of thinking best. Almost as if bored, he stood up. "Drop me off at Dxun, will you, Emory? I have a promise to keep."

"What are we supposed to do when you're gone?" Brianna asked in a small voice, and Deon had to turn away, because she seemed utterly grief-stricken. "Where do we go?"

"If Kreia had ever said anything honest, it was that the future depends on you guys. She said you were the Lost Jedi… the true Jedi, who will rebuild the Order."

"So those old Masters we sought out weren't any good? Well, not that they are of any use to us dead, but… they weren't any good alive?" Atton asked, slightly puzzled.

Deon shook his head. "The Order's teachings were flawed in some way. I don't know. But the point is, each of you has seen life outside the dogmas of the Order. You know the galaxy… you see it differently than any Jedi. I suggest you seek out Bastila – she might be able to help you somewhat – as a start. The Order must be rebuilt."

Mira laughed shakily. "The "noble and wise" Jedi Order that has lasted for millennia, to be rebuilt by us?"

"Our pasts are not relevant in this matter." Mical noted, "We know each other, our strengths and weaknesses."

"I think we could do it." Visas added quietly, "It would be a difficult task… but someone has to do it. And… it would give us all a chance for a fresh start." Everyone knew she was referring to her Sith days.

The new Jedi shifted a bit – they were an odd bunch: a bounty hunter, a former Sith assassin turned gambler, a Republic agent, a Sith apprentice, a servant forbidden to become a Jedi, a tech specialist… all introduced to the ways of the Force, one by one, turned Jedi.

Though still slightly skeptical, they agreed. The Jedi would head for Telos and hail the Admiral and Bastila, Mandalore would return to Dxun, and Deon and the droids would head for the unknown.

The journey to the Mandalorian moon was long, and then they had to return somewhat, since Telos was on the other side of the Perlemian Trade Route, since it was a part of the Hydian Way. Before they arrived there, most of the crew had talked with Deon for some time, saying their farewells, wishing good luck and – some for the first time – the traditional Jedi "May the Force Be With You."

Brianna came last – the enmity between her and Visas had lessened somewhat, but she still didn't stick around the Miraluka when she could avoid it. The Exile welcomed her warmly, but was worried about how she would react. Personally, he had no time for any kind of romance on his journey, and was aware that the Handmaiden held an admiring affection for him, as did Visas. Mira had told enough hints about him hooking up a power coupling with either of them, though they were untrue.

Contrary to what he thought she would say, however, she didn't try to talk him out of it, only wished him good luck, like the others. "I will take up my former mistress´ role, and study the history of the Jedi." she told him, smiling a bit sadly, "We must learn from the past if we are to better the Jedi Order… and I will make sure no one forgets about the tales of the Jedi, or about you."

"You and Mical seem to be getting along pretty well now – you could team up, if you want to go further with this task." Deon suggested. Brianna had been suspicious of Mical – like pretty much everyone had been of each other – but they became quite good friends, since their interests were similar.

The Handmaiden nodded, "Yes, I have spoken to him about this. He knows a lot about Jedi – far more than I – but he didn't know some things about the holocrons I have told him." She then said that they might go down to the Polar Academy later, to see if they could find something. She didn't mention Atris at all, but it was clear that the memory of Atris attacking her in a jealous rage was still fresh. Somehow, Deon felt calmer to know Mical would go with her.

She didn't speak of her feelings, but decided to ignore formalities for a moment – after all, after dueling in their undergarments several times, it wasn't that embarrassing – and chose to embrace Deon for a moment before leaving, looking much more at peace with herself than before.

Once on Telos, the Exile chose not to leave the ship. He knew that they would ask him to stay… but he had a task ahead of him. With a final goodbye, he left his friends behind and left for the Unknown Regions, though he had only a vague idea of where to search.

"This has to top even the Star Map search, huh, T3?" he asked the astromech droid from the pilot seat. The T3 unit beeped chirpily.

The Ebon Hawk soared through the starry sky for a moment until it disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the planet, the station, and all else behind. No one knew, however, that from the planet surface, a pair of somehow warmer ice blue eyes was watching the vessel.

"Safe journey… Deon…" After speaking the name at long last after years, with a soft swishing of white robes, the figure retreated back into the ice academy, no longer so cool at heart.


End file.
